


They Burn

by vageege



Series: drabble collection [1]
Category: One Piece
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-28
Updated: 2016-03-01
Packaged: 2018-05-23 17:44:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6124918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vageege/pseuds/vageege
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some fairly unrelated drabbles about the various aspects of the relationship between Luffy and Sanji. // this is the safe for work collection</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> so this will be where i stick the random short things i write about sanj and luf while i work on other longer shit — i’m calling them drabbles, but there will be like. no set word count for any of these. everything posted in this series will be safe for work and have no sex. the most they would do in this collection is kiss or cuddle or smth, which, they don’t as of yet, but i’ll be putting up warnings for that or anything else that might require a warning in the notes at the beginning of each chapter
> 
> i just figured u kno what, there’s like so few sanlu fics up on this site, i might as well throw these up while i do other shit in the meantime. hope u like em my dudes

Luffy knew Sanji was drunk because he’d been around him for most of the night. Because it was Luffy’s birthday, and Sanji hadn’t stopped cooking for _hours_ and hours, and Luffy and Zoro had both kept fueling him with this wine that he really liked — well, they kept insisting it was fuel, and it was Luffy’s birthday, so Sanji didn't have a choice, really. Just. Those were the rules.

 

Plus, Sanji was really funny when he was drunk. He didn’t drink a lot, not really, and he got all noodly and stumbly with his long arms and legs while keeping up this weird sense of balance that he always had. And his words got jumbled eventually, but he was still fine in the kitchen. He never slipped once in his galley, but out on the deck, he’d stumbled twice and almost fallen on his face, and it was great.

 

“Hey,” Luffy said once it was real late into the night. “Thanks for cooking so much.”

 

Sanji sat next to him on the floorboards of the deck with his legs folded, hunched over with his elbows on his thighs. It was just the two of them, up by the front of the ship, out by the steering wheel.

 

“I’d rather cook than go shopping for a birthday present,” Sanji replied, lighting a cigarette.

 

“Do you like grocery shopping?”

 

“Well. Yeah.”

 

Luffy laughed, open and loud and not worried about it, because everyone else was gone, nobody was gonna hear them out there — which, that was pretty cool, because normally there would be at least a couple people passed out right on the deck, but everyone had gone in. There wasn’t even anyone in the crow’s nest. Technically, the two of them were on watch, he guessed. It was just the two of them.

 

He wondered if maybe everyone did that on purpose.

 

He looked over at Sanji, who swayed with the ship.

 

No. They wouldn’t know anything. None of the crew knew anything.

 

Sanji looked over his shoulder, and Luffy kinda followed his eyes.

 

“Is everyone gone? Are we on watch? What the hell just happened.”

 

“Yeah. They all passed out a while ago.” Luffy smiled over at Sanji. “You can go, too, if you want.”

 

“What about you.”

 

“I’m not tired. And I’m on watch?” Luffy shrugged.

 

Sanji took a long drag of his cigarette. “But there’s always two on watch. And also. Too drunk.”

 

“To sleep?”

 

“Yep.”

 

Luffy snorted and Sanji turned to face him. “You can’t tell ‘cause of, uh, you know—“ he gestured to his hair, “but I’m fucking going cross-eyed, I’m fucking. Um.”

 

“Drunk?”

 

“Oh, hammered. Piss drunk. Your fault. Right? You? Gave me all that wine? You and that asshole? You did.”

 

Luffy laughed at him, at his stupid way of talking, and Sanji looked away before he continued.

 

“Also. You and me hardly ever, uh. You know.”

 

Luffy shook his head, because no, he had no idea. Sanji glanced at him in the silence, and he gestured between the two of them. And then Luffy maybe got it, but he didn’t want to say anything, so he just kept waiting.

 

“We never,” Sanji took a drag of his cigarette with a deep breath. “Like, uh. Do this.”

 

“Celebrate my birthday?”

 

“No, stupid. It’s nice to sit around just you and me sometimes. You fucking idiot. Dumb… fucking idiot. That’s what I meant.”

 

Luffy’s chest felt very full very suddenly. Like it was swelling up. “Yeah?”

 

“Remember, there used to be more time for shit like this.”

 

And yeah, Luffy knew that. Their crew got bigger, they sailed further into action, and things like celebrating birthdays and getting drunk took a backseat. Which was how it was supposed to be, they both knew that, but.

 

“You like it being just you and me?”

 

“How many fucking times, how many goddamn ways do I have to—“

 

“Okay! I just. Yeah. Me, too.”

 

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean.”

 

Luffy kinda huffed because Sanji was good at being smart and dumb at the same time. “I like it when it’s just you and me!”

 

Sanji finally looked back over at him, and he smiled a little. “This is fucking heartwarming of us.”

 

After a second or two of silence, Luffy laughed, and Sanji did too.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> well it's me so obv it's not gonna all be fluff cmon now

 

Zoro was alone in the galley, and he was hoping to catch a lucky break and find a bottle of liquor that wasn’t locked the hell up. It was his shift on watch, which meant a lot of sitting around and staring off into the distance. Which would be a lot more enjoyable with some alcohol.

 

It was the middle of the night, so Zoro was a little surprised when the door opened and Sanji walked in, mid-yawn and stretching. He stopped and scratched his stomach when he saw Zoro behind the counter.

 

“Oi, shitty moss, go—“ Sanji paused to yawn again, “—fuck off.”

 

Tired as he was, maybe Sanji could be convinced to just _give_ him some liquor. Although Zoro didn’t really know how to convince him of anything in general at all.

 

“Lemme have some booze.”

 

“So _polite_. Fuck off, I said,” Sanji muttered in his raspy voice that he had in the mornings as he walked behind Zoro. Which, Zoro didn’t know what Sanji was doing up in the first place. He’d only gone to bed a couple hours ago.

 

“C’mon.”

 

“Say please and I’ll consider it,” Sanji groaned as he stretched again and lit one of the burners on the stove.

 

“I’m not going to say please.”

 

Sanji looked over his shoulder at Zoro and gave him a half-hearted glare. And then he walked to the fridge and unlocked it and grabbed a few cuts of meat and a dark bottle. Shutting the fridge with his foot, he returned and slid the bottle along the counter to Zoro, and he popped a cigarette in his mouth and went to the back counter and tossed the meat down onto it.

 

Zoro uncorked the bottle and looked from it to Sanji, who was busy at the counter.

 

“What’re you doing?” Zoro finally asked after he took a long initial drink.

 

Why the hell did Sanji actually just _give_ him this booze with seemingly no strings or fight attached, and what the hell was he doing up so late at night. What the hell.

 

“What the hell does it look like I’m doing, you stupid, shitty swordsman,” Sanji drawled, not even bothering to turn around as he sliced the meat into thin strips with a few well-placed precision cuts from one of his knives and a couple snaps of his wrist.

 

The loud sizzle from the frying pan punctuated his statement.

 

Sanji wasn’t a midnight snack kind of person. In fact, Zoro never saw him actually eat any of the snacks he made in general. Unless cigarettes counted, which Sanji would probably say they actually did because he really was that stupid. But that wasn’t the point. The point was—

 

“Would you get out of here already,” Sanji said, his voice laced with that sort of rising impatience that people tended to have when they were tired as shit.

 

“You’ve been giving me a lot of booze, lately,” Zoro said as he stood up, bottle in hand, not planning on giving it back.

 

“Don’t make anything of it. It’s just a good way to shut you up, is all,” Sanji replied, but there wasn’t any malice behind his tone. Just tired, tired, tired. So go the fuck back to bed, already.

 

Zoro waited a few seconds, taking a few slow steps towards the door, watching Sanji’s face — looking over his wrinkled brow and set jaw and cow-licked hair and unfocused eyes.

 

Cooking on autopilot.

 

“The other night, in the galley with Usopp, when you left us that bottle—“

 

“I said it was a good way to get you to _shut up_ ,” Sanji snapped, still not looking up from where he was barely looking at all.

 

He wasn’t cooking for just himself. In fact, he never did, did he.

 

Sanji stubbed his cigarette out. Already finished.

 

“Even in the middle of the night,” Zoro began after several seconds of silence, save for the hiss of Sanji’s cooking, “you still do this bullshit for him?”

 

Zoro didn’t know why he was suddenly so curious. Or if that was even the right word for it. He didn’t know why he couldn’t just take the booze and go. Normally, that would’ve been the most ideal outcome possible for any sort of interaction with Sanji.

 

But it was the middle of the night — it was almost morning, probably, actually — and Sanji was awake and throwing together a small meal, and there was only one person on that ship he would even begin to _consider_ doing something like this for, at this hour, other than the girls.

 

And it wasn’t for Nami, in this case. Or Robin. That was obvious. He would’ve been _happy_ to be throwing together a ton of ingredients to go with whatever he was making, singing about his mastery of food and love, or whatever. Instead, Sanji was gritting his teeth, chopping vegetables and peeling fruits and preparing a very decent-looking arrangement with eyes and posture and an expression on his face that all screamed _let me go back to bed._

 

It was for Luffy.

 

Only Luffy was enough to get this kind of behavior out of Sanji, ever. Which, why the hell—

 

“I can’t say no to him,” Sanji admitted, quietly, so quietly that Zoro almost didn’t hear him over the sound of… everything else.

 

To which Zoro did not respond. He didn’t have the words. He only had the feeling in the bottom of his stomach that twisted and wrestled with the booze hitting it.

 

He probably would’ve stood there for more than a minute, suddenly zoned out with his bottle of liquor against his lips, dwelling on what Sanji had just said and the way he’d said it and what he’d really meant.

 

He did not stand there for more than a few seconds, however, despite the onslaught of memories that, without warning, rushed through his brain and his blurry, unfocused vision. It was like he was reliving every time he’d seen Sanji and Luffy interact, ever, which was throwing him for a loop, actually — but the experience was interrupted by the galley door swinging open — being _thrown_ open — which ultimately snapped him from his sprint down memory lane and promptly relocated him several steps to the left.

 

Zoro barely managed to get out of the way as Luffy strode in.

 

“Sanji!” Luffy said while walking straight over to him, like he hadn’t even seen Zoro. Which was entirely possible.

 

Zoro stood off to the side, near the door, and watched Sanji’s eyes lift from the meal he was almost finished preparing and settle on Luffy.

 

“I said I’d come get you,” Sanji muttered, shifting his weight as he pulled his pack of cigarettes from his pocket.

 

“You were taking _forever_ ,” Luffy returned, going to stand behind Sanji and entering his personal bubble like it didn’t even fucking exist, wrapping his arms around his waist and leaning against his stiff frame.

 

Sanji lit his cigarette and spoke almost under his breath.

 

“Learn some tact.”

 

“I’unno what that means,” Luffy said, leaning harder into Sanji’s back — Zoro could see Sanji brace against him — and he continued, “but I’m _hungry_ —“

 

“I know.”

 

“I can’t _help_ it—“

 

“I _know_ , I said, you stupid shitty rubber—“

 

“I want it.”

 

Luffy’s voice was tired. And insistent through his yawns.

 

Sanji took a very long drag of his cigarette. “Get off me and wait two fucking minutes—“

 

“I _want it_.”

 

“I heard you!”

 

Luffy pressed his face into the space between Sanji’s shoulder blades, and he spoke quietly, but Zoro could still hear him say in a firm voice, “I want _you._ ”

 

“Not right now,” Sanji nearly whispered.

 

“I want _Sanji—_ “

 

“Shut up!” Sanji shouted, turning abruptly, still encircled by Luffy’s arms. 

 

He glared down at Luffy, with a rigid face and a cigarette held tight in his grimace. And before Luffy could speak, Sanji looked directly at Zoro, who was still standing there, kind of frozen, watching them. The bottle of alcohol Sanji had given him was still clenched tight in his hand.

 

Luffy followed Sanji’s eyes, and when he saw Zoro by the door, he grinned.

 

“Oh, hey, Zoro! Are you hungry, too? Are we gonna have a secret nighttime-dinner? Is—“

 

“No, stupid, he was just on his way _out_ ,” Sanji cut in, turning back to the fish in the frying pan, and Zoro hadn’t failed to notice the way Luffy’s arms had dropped from Sanji’s waist to his sides.

 

Zoro took a deep breath, breaking the eye contact he’d held with Luffy as he turned towards the door. 

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a small cute thing

 

Sanji was different when it was just them.

 

Well, he was the same, he was always _him_ , but when nobody else was around, he was All Blue Sanji.

 

The way Luffy saw it, there were different versions of Sanji, which, the idea of that was equal parts stupid and funny, Luffy decided, but he didn’t mind it. There was Love Sanji, who liked to look like an ass. And there was Tough Sanji, who didn’t know how to be nice to anyone even when he wanted to be, who got angry and blew up and kicked the closest thing to him. Which was sometimes Luffy. And there was Cook Sanji, which was Luffy’s second favorite. And Serious Sanji, who talked to him in a very serious tone. But probably his first favorite version was All Blue Sanji, who only really appeared when it was just the two of them.

 

He laughed more. Talked a little more. And he smiled these nice smiles and didn’t try to cover it up very much. And Luffy liked that the best.

 

Luffy called him All Blue Sanji because that was the first time he saw it. The first time Luffy saw Sanji grin and get excited about something and laugh with him was way, way back, back on the Baratie, when Sanji had first told him about All Blue. The name and the moment stuck in his head.

 

Luffy assumed everyone else got to see All Blue Sanji when they were alone with him, but, obviously, Luffy couldn’t tell for sure, and also, maybe there was a really little part of him that liked the idea of being the only one who saw Sanji smile like that.

 

“Here, carry all these,” Sanji said to him.

 

They were walking through a market on an island and grocery shopping and Sanji was handing off all this fruit to Luffy and narrowing his eyes and threatening him about not eating any of it until they were back on the Sunny.

 

Fine. Luffy would try his best. No promises. But he would _try._

 

“When are we gonna go find a butcher?”

 

Sanji looked over at him, paused, and smiled a little. “Figured we’d save the best for last.”

 

Luffy grinned and tightened his hold on the several bags of fruit Sanji was making him carry.

 

“Also,” Sanji added, leading the way down rows and rows of different vegetables and stuff like that, his face back to passive, back to regular, “I sure as hell don’t trust you to carry so much meat around for very long without eating most of it raw.”

 

Damn. Well, Sanji was smart like that.

 

“I wouldn’t eat it _raw._ ”

 

“You might.”

 

“Okay, I _might._ ”

 

Sanji snorted.

 

As Luffy balanced an impressive and growing amount of produce in his arms, stretching to try to keep everything from slipping, he said, “Hey, Sanji, hey — what if, instead of the butcher, we went hunting. Let’s go hunting! And kill a bunch of giant animals and take those back instead. And eat them.”

 

“You think there’s game on this island?”

 

“There was a big forest! There’s always big animals in big forests.”

 

“Well,” Sanji said as he leaned over a cart of radishes, ew, “Nami-san would probably be happy about us saving money.”

 

“Can we really go hunting!” Luffy was immediately borderline vibrating, and he hop-skipped the few extra steps between him and Sanji and slid right up next to him, grinning up at him, trying to contain himself, but damn, how much fun would it be to go on a sudden hunting trip, and to fight a bunch of giant beast animals and kill and _eat_ them, and if _anyone_ could fully appreciate the idea, it was the crew mate to his direct left.

 

“I mean. I don’t see why not, if we drop all this other stuff off at the ship first.”

 

Luffy nearly dropped all the fruit and vegetables he was holding in his reflex celebratory quick-dance-and-shout of victory, and he saw Sanji smile a bit and look in the other direction, drifting off towards a big shelf of spices.

 

Luffy jogged to catch up with him.

 

“Hey, you should make us lunch boxes real quick to take with us when we get back to the ship.”

 

“Alright.”

 

Luffy grinned. “You’re the best.”

 

“I am the best cook you’ll ever meet, yes,” Sanji agreed, examining a bottle of red spice, but that wasn’t what Luffy had said, really.

 

It was a little funny, how Sanji seemed to think of himself as only a cook. He was more than a cook. He was a cook who got really angry and kicked marines in the head so hard that their jaws popped out of place and he thought of cool plans and he got the big picture when Luffy wasn’t seeing it immediately. He had to know that. He knew so much, so he had to know that.

 

“You know, right,” Luffy said suddenly as Sanji was paying the guy for all the food they were picking up, “you’re not just a cook—“

 

“When the hell did it start raining like this?” Sanji interrupted him, looking outside.

 

The shopkeep guy laughed a little. “It’s monsoon season. Expect it.”

 

“Damn it,” Sanji muttered, shouldering his huge bag of food. His bag was bigger than Luffy’s, even.

 

“We’re still gonna go hunting, right?” Luffy asked, standing next to Sanji at the doorway, looking at the sky and the way it opened up with him.

 

“If the rain doesn’t fuck you up, sure,” Sanji replied.

 

“I can do rain!” Luffy smiled, and he stepped out into it, into the wind and the water and the sting of wet little drops hitting his face. “I like the rain.”

 

“Good,” Sanji grinned back at him, and he joined him out in all the water, letting it get his shirt and his tie and slacks all wet. “I do, too.”

 

“You like the rain?”

 

“Sure. I like water.” Sanji squinted up at the sky, and they started walking, getting all soaked. “I should’ve brought an umbrella, though. I’m an idiot.”

 

“What,” Luffy stepped over a large puddle, “are your fancy clothes gonna get all messed up?” Sanji kicked the water in another puddle at him, splashed it all over his legs, and Luffy danced away. “Hey!”

 

“You know how many suits I’ve ruined jumping in the ocean after your dumb ass?”

 

“It’s your fault for wearing suits that cant get all wet when you’re a _pirate_ —“

 

“No, it’s _your_ fault for being a clumsy moron! Who else falls overboard every other day! Nobody!”

 

Luffy jumped in a puddle right next to Sanji that was way deeper than he originally anticipated, and he got them both pretty good as he yelled over the wind, “Chopper fell in just yesterday!”

 

“Because you knocked him in, stupid!”

 

Luffy laughed despite himself, and Sanji splashed him again for good measure, and rather than arguing that it was Chopper’s fault for being in the way in the first place, Luffy focused on kicking as much water at Sanji as he could without dropping all the food he was struggling to keep a hold of, and they paused in the middle of the street to go all out, stomping in puddles and kicking at each other, both of them trying not to drop all their groceries, and over the sound of thunder and pouring rain and howling winds, in between strings of curses and threats, he could hear Sanji laughing with him.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading for real


End file.
